“And here’s the other thing. Brace yourself.” He takes a long sip of coffee. “I know I threatened you with the Bartlett thing, but he actually beat me to the punch. Word has it he’s been sniffing around independently. He hasn’t made the Lazarev connection. Not yet, at least. But he’s curious about the Astoria construction site. Work has been halted there for weeks now and nobody’s saying why. He’s asking questions and if he keeps it up, they’re bound to lead somewhere. He doesn’t know what he’s looking at yet, but he’s not stupid.”
I blanch white. “You’re kidding.”
“Do I look like I’m kidding?”
He does not look like he’s kidding. He looks like a man with cream cheese in his mustache who is delivering very bad news with zero sugar-coating.
“If Bartlett backs into this story from the con
